Photography and Writing by CJ Levinson

Month: May 2013

Burnt alive in a house fire Choked to death in my own bed Overdosing on morphine Shot four times in a robbery gone wrong Drowning in a pool of water Stabbed to death in a fit of jealousy Pushed from a great height Beaten and left for dead in the middle of nowhere

And she finds me in the night And holds me and says it’ll be okay She holds me and says it’ll be okay

Thrown out of a moving train Sucked out an airlock into the vacuum of space Going down in an aeroplane Hanging on to a railing for dear life Jumping from a high balcony Hit by a car while crossing the road Killed in a terrorist attack Executed as an innocent man

And she finds me in the night And holds me and says it’ll be okay She holds me and says it’ll be okay

Betrayed by my best friend Flatlining on the surgeon’s table Crucified next to Jesus Suffocated in my sleep Crushed in an earthquake Mauled to death by wild animals Struck down by a heart attack Dying in my old age sad and alone

Every night I dream these dreams I dream of death and an endless pain I dream of my death again and again

Electrocuted by a faulty wire Set on fire for speaking heresy Praying for mercy to a god I don’t believe in Dying of a broken heart

And she finds me in the night And holds me and says it’ll be okay She holds me and says it’ll be okay

She holds me and says it’ll be okay

I wrote this poem last night after lying awake most of the night with a series of vivid nightmares. Each time I closed my eyes I saw myself dying and it’s been happening off and on for most of this week. I had similar dreams a couple of years ago when I went through a traumatic period and I guess everything we’ve been going through recently, first with my father and losing our home and now with my grandparents’ dementia as well, has reawakened some of those dreams and flashes.

I was debating about whether or not to post this as it’s so personal and I didn’t want to worry anyone or give them the wrong idea about what I’m feeling (that I might be suicidal or something). I decided to in the end as part of the process of dealing with all this is opening up and making my feelings public. I don’t think it’s my best poem but it’s not meant to be. It’s meant more as a stream of consciousness and in a small way writing it has helped me to deal with some of the shit I’m going through at the moment, which is all I wanted it to do and I’m happy with how it came out.

The photo is one I took a couple of years ago, of a grave in the cemetery of St Jude’s Church in Randwick. I’ve always liked it and the atmosphere in the photo and I thought it suited the poem quite well.